


on the line for this time only

by tongham



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Medicine, Mild Language, single scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tongham/pseuds/tongham
Summary: “um,” he speaks up and minhee looks at him, reminded of his presence, “hi? i’m really sorry for disrupting you.”minhee shakes his head and stares at the ground. “no, it’s fine. i think. i should be sorry for subjecting you to my mental breakdown.”“no worries, we’ve all been there.” the boy sends a small smile his way and minhee’s stoic self actually reciprocates, an instinct to trust settling in his chest. “i’m lee eunsang,” he says, slipping his knife back into his pocket and extending a hand to shake. “uninfected.”“kang minhee.” a small smile plays onto his lips. “not infected, just insane.”
Relationships: Kang Minhee/Lee Eunsang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	on the line for this time only

**Author's Note:**

> day 3/30 of nano: success!! i was even more busy today with everything i procrastinated on today but i finally have a day off tomorrow (hallelujah) and this didn't turn out too bad?? REALLY different from everything else on my page but i take what the prompts give me
> 
> i'm really excited to release this one into the wild, i absolutely adore this one-day project and i'm actually proud of myself?? not to hype it up too much in the opening notes but i hope you have as much fun reading it as i did writing!
> 
> title from red hands by walk off the earth.

minhee has always liked being alone.

he likes the open silence, the freedom to explore his own thoughts and self-reflect without disruption. he likes anywhere where he can seek out the quiet: his cozy bedroom at home in suncheon, the network of libraries in new york, holes-in-the-wall at strange hours. minhee has complex thoughts, numerous problems of his own, it’s his claim to why he dedicates so much time to self-isolation under a thin veil of self-help.

minhee has always liked being alone. it doesn’t bother him at all that he hasn’t seen his family in two months and he can’t even contact them to know if they’re alright: cell phones stopped working near-instantly. it doesn’t bother him at all that he’s been in the same janitorial closet for the past two weeks ( _ 13 days, _ he corrects his own thought), his last venture met with nothing other than the cruelties of the world he now lives in, apparently.

his periodic outings for food and few other necessities are blurry – he’s careful not to remember it too vividly – but the red streaks of too-long fingernails and a few particularly-painful lacerations ( _ some of them had knives, _ minhee knows) line his arms and ache infrequently as he tosses and turns in the middle of the night. it’s july but minhee still wears hoodies daily, the air in the closet damp and the sight of his injuries heightening minhee’s awareness of reality. out of sight, out of mind.

but today is tuesday which means minhee has to face reality for a few short minutes and change his bandages like the responsible medical student he is. standing up slowly and rummaging through a homemade first aid kit, thrown together with what was left on the shelves at the pharmacy across the street, minhee exhales a relieved breath at the sight of unopened boxes of gauze and bandages, antiseptic spray with nozzles sealed shut.

carefully preparing all he’ll need before concealing the supply –  _ treat every moment as if they’re on the other side of the door, _ minhee repeats in his mind – minhee pulls his hoodie over his head, cold air touching the skin up until his t-shirt sleeves for the first time in seven days exactly, down to the hour.

beginning with the wounds he recalls as less severe, he unwraps gauze slowly and rips off bandages quickly. he keeps the lights dim, concealing his presence and maintaining whatever ignorance toward his physical condition he can cling to, to some degree is better than none at all.

preparing a new bandage, he rips off the adhesive and the noise coincides with rustling outside the door. head darting up, the bandage falls to the floor, sticking to the concrete and minhee’s blood runs cold. after a short moment that feels like forever, the knob turns and the door finally crashes open.

the sequence of events happens in one breath: minhee reaches to his left for the spear he managed to find a month ago under one of the staircases in this building, the intruder slams the door shut behind them as quickly as it opened, darkness envelops the situation and minhee’s life once again. it only helps to set minhee further on-edge, slowly approaching the heavily-breathing figure struggling to catch their breath.

minhee takes a breath to speak – what would be a monumental task when his throat is so dry and he’s been on his own for so long, so quiet with the assumption he’s always being watched – when his spearhead is slightly shifted down. his eyes begin to adjust to the familiar darkness again and he sees shiny, blade-on-blade.  _ so they have a weapon too. fuck. _

minhee’s on autopilot, maneuvering around the intruder’s knife and moving forward, spearhead dangerously close to their neck. “quick, why should i not kill you?”

darkness can’t disguise the fear in the eyes of the mysterious figure – minhee’s making sense of it now, he looks to be around the same age as minhee. “please just trust me,” he whispers quietly. minhee feels guilt settle into his chest but he needs to remind himself that it’s hard to distinguish the infected. he needs to survive.

minhee drops the spear with a tremor, startling the boy standing opposite him. “what the fuck,” minhee mutters to himself, grabbing at his hair as he begins overthinking in this situation of all times. the dark-haired boy just stands patiently, god bless his heart.

“um,” he speaks up and minhee looks at him, reminded of his presence, “hi? i’m really sorry for disrupting you.”

minhee shakes his head and stares at the ground. “no, it’s fine. i think. i should be sorry for subjecting you to my mental breakdown.”

“no worries, we’ve all been there.” the boy sends a small smile his way and minhee’s stoic self actually reciprocates, an instinct to trust settling in his chest. “i’m lee eunsang,” he says, slipping his knife back into his pocket and extending a hand to shake. “uninfected.”

“kang minhee.” a small smile plays onto his lips. “not infected, just insane.”

eunsang smiles back at that, thank god. at least his first blown cover didn’t kill him and can deal with his humour, damn miracle. eunsang takes a moment to look around the closet, pivoting to glance at the rows of canned food and first-aid equipment. “how long have you been here?” he says breathlessly.

“since it begun. so 50 years, give or take a few.” eunsang laughs audibly at that. “why? need some supplies?”

eunsang nods slowly. “i’m not really good at this whole zombie apocalypse thing, apparently. i’ve had to jump ship on a weekly basis.”

“it’s all just a game of chance,” minhee says distractedly as he browses his own miniature grocery. “hungry? how does vegetable soup sound?”

“amazing, i’ve been living off peanut butter and granola bars up until now.”

opening the can with his pocketknife, minhee dumps the can into his one and only cast-iron pot, brought to the janitorial unit as his first thought when evacuating his apartment just two short months ago. “it’ll take a while, the stovetop can’t boil.”

“no worries.” eunsang watches minhee carefully, only sitting on the floor when the taller boy does as such. “so...” the boy whistles idly, trailing off as the slight sizzle of tomato soup makes itself known.

“what brings you here?” minhee supplies, where he judges as a good place to start.

“was at the abandoned hospital just down the street there with a group of people. turns out one of them was infected.”

minhee nods in understanding even if eunsang isn’t looking at him, fingers fiddling together. “hard to trust in times like this. it’s why i’m trying to survive alone.”

eunsang’s hands fall separate and he looks at minhee, directly for the first time since they dropped their weapons. “then why are you trusting me?”

hard-hitting question. minhee pauses to think for a long moment. “i don’t know.” with that thought, he stands up, dusting off his pants and crossing the room to the oven. a few scrapes of a spoon against metal, the quiet sound of soup pouring into bowls. “c’mere, there’s a table to eat at.”

“thank you. truly,” eunsang says as minhee sets down a warm bowl of what he can only assume to be eunsang’s best meal during the apocalypse.

minhee nods wordlessly in acknowledgement, sitting down opposite eunsang.  _ this is typically the empty chair, _ minhee thinks. it’s a small thing but it makes minhee grateful to have someone else around.

eunsang sighs in satisfaction when his bowl is empty, minhee’s eyes shifting up from his unfinished meal. “do you happen to have a first-aid kit?”

“only the entire aisle at the drugstore,” minhee returns, sliding his chair out to approach eunsang. “let me see there.”

“it’s not pretty,” the seated boy winces, turning over his arms to show minhee familiar injuries. “just some bandages, whatever you got.”

“i think you’re gonna need a bit more than that.” minhee laughs shortly. “i’ll take care of them for you.”

“minhee, you don’t have to –”

“well, i’m going to,” minhee says sharply, snapping eunsang’s mouth shut. “patching yourself up is a pain in the ass.”

“why should i trust you?”

“i’m a med student.”

“me too,” eunsang says and minhee raises his eyebrows in surprise. eunsang’s eyes drift to minhee’s arms, then back up with a small smile on his lips. “but are you sure you are? wouldn’t you be taking better care of yourself, then?”

“i  _ was _ taking care of myself until i was interrupted and almost killed a man.” gratefully, eunsang laughs at that. minhee likes eunsang’s laugh, it’s nice. his smile, too. “i’ll just go grab some stuff, sit tight.”

“don’t gotta tell me twice,” eunsang replies easily.

minhee returns shortly with fresh boxes of everything on hand, still unsure on eunsang’s condition. “ready?”

“ready.” eunsang nods firmly. minhee tears open a disinfectant wipe, beginning methodically on eunsang’s left forearm. eunsang winces in minhee’s touch and draws in a sharp breath between his teeth at the sting.

“easy there,” minhee mumbles, his way of showing comfort and eunsang nods silently. as he continues his work, minhee finds himself leaning into the warmth of another person, abandoning his predisposition to approach eunsang’s wounds as just another everyday medical procedure. it’s been so long since minhee’s helped someone else.

“you know i’m doing yours after this, right?”

minhee hums in confusion. “are you sure you wanna do that? i’ve been taking care of myself just fine. plus, you’re still shaking.” he grips eunsang’s wrist still, highlighting his faint tremors and eunsang averts his gaze.

“yes. i want to. now stop being a stubborn piece of shit and focus.”

minhee’s jaw drops, laughing at eunsang’s boldness and the words he never would’ve expected from such a calm and gentle voice. “there,” minhee says with satisfaction, securing the final bandage on eunsang’s numerous wounds.

“my turn!” eunsang says excitedly, much too enthusiastic for the current global state, and minhee smiles smally. he doesn’t mind this disruption in his routine anymore, eunsang is good. “this is gonna sting a bit, okay?”

minhee rolls his eyes in response. “i know.”

“be nice,” eunsang reprimands as he presses down on the nozzle, minhee cursing simultaneously. eunsang smiles at the reaction and minhee is honestly offended that he’s being bullied by a  _ pediatrician _ .

minhee opted to work in silence but eunsang is the one to strike up conversation, proposing general questions they both answer. minhee’s from suncheon, eunsang was born in jeju but grew up in busan. minhee goes – or went, depending on whether or not the end of the world has come – to columbia in the states, eunsang’s a product of seoul national university. minhee chose the path of a surgeon to conform to family expectations, eunsang’s drawn to pediatrics due to a younger cousin’s terminal health condition.

“and all better,” eunsang says finally, taking minhee’s wrist and pressing a kiss to the wound he just bandaged, the most painful one. yanking his hand away, minhee’s eyes widen and eunsang just laughs quietly at the reaction. “what? i told you i’m in pediatrics.”

minhee just nods slowly, eyes trained skeptically on eunsang. “thanks for the help.”

“i should be thanking you.” eunsang stands up from his uncomfortable position on the floor. “guess i should get going now. thanks for taking me in and helping me out, minhee. good luck and don’t die.” eunsang laughs shortly, visibly expecting minhee to appreciate the dark humor. he would, under normal circumstances, but the taller boy’s mind is elsewhere.

“eunsang, wait.” minhee startles a bit at the sound of his own voice.

the boy turns around with a hum at the mention of his name, eyes drifting to the fingers wrapped tight around his wrist. eunsang attempts to take another step toward the exit to no avail – minhee’s grip is surprisingly tight, refusing to let go.

“you can stay. please.”

**Author's Note:**

> look ma! no scene breaks!!! (that was my challenge for today since i've overachieving on my word count, don't wanna burn out too early lol) and no concrete ending!! a lot of risks for me as a writer eee but it was really fun to break some of my own rules haha
> 
> pls let me know if i was able to pull this off via kudos!!! or even via comment??? crazy. also hit me up on twitter @deuichas or at curiouscat.me/tongham! see you all next time (*coughs* tomorrow. i feel insane)


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